


the wrench

by youcouldmakealife



Series: it's a setup [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: If Joey hoped Scratch would stop being weird, well — he did hope. But it was a hope in vain.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Series: it's a setup [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669567
Comments: 37
Kudos: 353





	the wrench

If Joey hoped Scratch would stop being weird, well — he did hope. But it was a hope in vain. He seems back to his normal Scratch self at first, but that impression is dashed the first time the Scouts go out again. 

“Owen isn’t coming?” Scratch asks after the first round, which is a weird question, but even weirder is the way he’s saying it. Joey frowns at him.

“He’s got a ton of grading to do for the class he TAs,” Willy says, before Joey can say anything.

Joey turns his frown on Willy. Willy has enough friends. Like, a truly absurd amount of friends, seems to be buddies with at least one guy on every team they play and is always dashing off to see friends when they’re playing away games. And Joey’s not even talking about sex friends: he’s got a non-sex buddy in every port along with hookup buddies. He can’t just filch Joey’s one local non-Scout friend. That’s not fair.

Willy raises an eyebrow at him.

Joey frowns harder, trying to convey how unfair Willy is being.

“Don’t be territorial, Money,” Willy says.

“I will if I want to be,” Joey mutters.

“Why’re you asking, Scratchy?” Willy asks.

“Just wanted to make sure my seat would be safe if I go to the bathroom,” Scratch mutters, which is also weird. Scratch isn’t a hold onto things and grudge about it dude, he’s a calls you out on it and then forgets about it dude. They’ve had plenty of arguments over the years — more when they roomed together, which makes sense, because you’re in each other’s pockets all the time, and the little things can get big if you’re not careful — and Scratch is the sort of arguer that’ll tell Joey to go fuck himself and genuinely mean it, and then ask if he wants to get dinner together an hour later, because he’s over it. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry I gave your chair away,” Joey says. “Why is this still a thing?” 

Scratch scowls at him. 

“Is the chair a metaphor?” Willy asks. “Is the chair a metaphor for _friendship_?”

“Shut up, Willy,” Joey says, over Scratch’s, “Fuck off, Willy, you pretentious ass.”

Joey grins at Scratch, who grins back. That’s more Scratch-like.

“No one appreciates my insights,” Willy sighs. “Why’d you think he was coming anyway?”

“Money’s got teeth,” Scratch says. “So.”

“I don’t just wear my teeth when Owen’s around,” Joey protests, and when Scratch gives him a skeptical look, adds, “Lately.”

Which is actually true. When his bridge was a ‘special events and family shit only’ thing, it always felt annoying and foreign in his mouth, but now that he’s wearing it more, he’s getting used to it, and it doesn’t bother him as much. And he knows he looks better when he’s wearing it, and maybe he should actually bother. It’s also kind of nice to take away the toothless chirp ammo from the guys. Not that those chirps bug him — he’s far too used to it — but they should branch out, get a little more creative.

“You look very nice with teeth,” Willy says, so sweet it turns right around to mean.

“We’re not talking to Willy anymore,” Joey says to Scratch, who replies with an immediate, “Deal.”

“Hey,” Willy complains, then slinks away with a sulky, “I didn’t want to talk to either of you anyway.”

Scratch seems back to normal, that night, making fun of Joey and sticking up for him when Shithead dares to get in on the making fun of Joey, and Ubering back with him, but then Joey doesn’t see him for two straight days. They’re days off, so that kind of makes sense, except it doesn’t at all, because on days off Scratch practically lives at Joey’s apartment. When Joey finally sees him at practice it feels like he hasn’t seen him in weeks, and he’s about to suggest lunch when Scratch disappears with Buzzer practically the second practice is over.

Joey tries, and fails, not to take offense to that. Scratch and Buzzer are buds, but they’re like, play video games on the plane buds while Joey cleans everyone out at poker, not _lunch_ buds. Not _hanging_ buds. Scratch has only one hanging bud in this town, and that’s Joey. 

Okay, two.

Joey corners his other hanging bud. Well, as much as you could corner a tiger — which is for however long as it decides to be cornered before taking a swipe at you.

“Does Scratch seem weird to you?” Joey asks.

Trigger’s eyes go kind of shifty. Well. Shiftier. His eyes are always a little shifty, like he’s forever looking for a puck just beyond the horizon. 

“No?” Trigger tries.

“He talk to you about it?” Joey asks, trying not to be hurt.

“No,” Trigger says, eyes thankfully just the normal level of shifty, which means he’s not lying. Probably. Which is good. Not that it’s good that Scratch is being weird enough that Trigger, Very Weird Person has noticed, or that Scratch isn’t talking about it, because talking is good, right? Though like, if he had a problem, it makes way more sense to go to Joey than Trigger. Joey is a mostly normal human. Or at least he likes to think so. He’s definitely normal-er than Trigger.

“Is it me, or does he like, not like Owen?” Joey asks.

“He’s barely even talked to Owen,” Trigger says.

“Yeah,” Joey says. “And that’s like, weird, right?”

Trigger shrugs, but Joey thinks it’s weird. Scratch isn’t like Willy or anything, all Madame Social Butterfly, but he’s a friendly guy. And he’s the one who kept pushing Joey to ask Owen out — hell, he practically did it for him, pretending to be him when he texted Maggie — so Joey doesn’t get it. It’s not like Owen could have rubbed him the wrong way. For one, Trigger’s right, they’ve barely even talked, and for two, Owen’s kind of perfect. Even Trigger likes him, and Trigger likes shutouts and Scratch at tier one, winning and the rest of the Scouts at tier two, and losses and everyone else in the world at tier three. The fact that he’s put Owen in ‘Tier Two: Like Well Enough’ is huge for him.

“He got lunch with Buzzer,” Joey says. “That’s weird.”

“Stop being a jealous bitch,” Trigger says, and pushes past him, no longer interested in being cornered.

“I’m not,” Joey mutters, but Trigger’s long gone.

They have a game — a loss, so no going out, and Scratch doesn’t come over after. Doesn’t pop in at breakfast the next morning, or lunch, or dinner. Or breakfast the next day. Joey’s mulling over lunch plans and also the idea of going down to Scratch’s apartment and making sure he isn’t dead when there’s a knock. Knocking’s weird too, Scratch just lets himself in, but Joey’s too relieved to care. Also too relieved to comment about how Scratch has finally deigned to show his presence, just says, “Movie or TV? And what do you want for lunch?”

Scratch considers. “New season of Dirty Money. Had a late breakfast.”

“That show’s depressing as fuck,” Joey says, but queues up Netflix anyway, finds it while Scratch raids his cupboard, returning with two glasses of water and a Mars bar. Joey guesses that’s his lunch sorted out.

“Nothing for me?” Joey asks.

“I got you water,” Scratch mumbles around the Mars bar. “Plus you don’t like anything in the cupboard.”

This is true. The main way that Joey’s avoided any of the temptation of Scratch’s treat cupboard is by only putting treats he doesn’t like himself in there. Which is easy, because Joey doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and he’s choosy about his cheat food, and all of Scratch’s teeth are sweet, and he’ll eat literally anything if chocolate is involved.

“Will you eat if I order food?” Joey asks, and Scratch shrugs, which means yes, so Joey orders soup and salads. May as well make sure Scratch actually eats something healthy at some point today. “Wanna start it, or wait til food gets here?”

“We can’t interrupt corporate greed,” Scratch says solemnly, so Joey guesses they’re waiting. 

“Less than thirty minutes,” he reports when the order goes through, then taps a message notification, going cold all over when he reads it.

_you’re in la next week right? want to meet up?_

Joey stares at it, the message itself blurring, his eyes caught on the profile picture. It’s some artsy shot, more shadow than anything else, but Joey can still zero in on that familiar fucking face. Joey can’t believe he ever thought that ‘better than you’ bored expression was hot. It makes him feel fucking sick.

“What adorable thing did Owen say this time?” Scratch mutters.

Joey keeps staring numbly at his phone. He’d deleted most of his accounts last year, and the the ones he didn’t, Zach didn’t have access, he thought. Apparently he was wrong.

“Money?” Scratch says. “Joey?”

It’s probably easier than it should be, Scratch taking his phone. It slides out of his limp fingers when Scratch grabs it.

“Who’s—” Scratch says, then, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“What are you _doing_?” Joey asks, trying to grab his phone from Scratch as Scratch starts thumb typing for his life. “Scratch!”

Scratch is bigger than him, stronger than him, and seems to be fully capable of typing even as Joey’s trying to wrestle the phone from his hands.

“Nick, this isn’t fucking funny,” Joey says.

“I know,” Scratch says, and finally, just when Joey’s fully considering actually using legit physical force — like actually painful, may genuinely hurt Scratch force — to get his phone back, Scratch returns it to him.

“ _Thank_ you,” Joey says, but apparently that was premature, because there’s a reply to Zach sitting there.

_hi fuckface just letting you know if you get within ten feet of joey an entire hockey team is ready and willing to fuck ur shit up xoxo_

“ _Fuck_ , Scratch,” Joey says. “He’s going to think I wrote that.”

“Doesn’t matter who wrote it, it’s true,” Scratch says. “You think we wouldn’t? We have your back, Money.”

“I know,” Joey says. “I just — _fuck_.”

Leave it to Zach to completely ruin a trip to Southern California in the middle of winter. Now Joey’s dreading it, and he’s probably going to be paranoid as fuck in Oakland and San Jose before they hit LA, even though it doesn’t make sense to be. He doubts Zach gives a shit enough to hop in a car and drive for hours just to see him. Hell, he’s surprised Zach gives a shit enough to ask to see him when they’re in the same town. 

Joey can’t figure out what Zach’s goal is here. He highly doubts it was to apologize — that’s not a Zach thing. Or reminisce — hey remember how you were fucking gone on me until you figured out how big a dickbag I was and then I leaked nudes years later just to extra prove you right about that? Maybe he just wants to let Joey know he still has the ability to ruin his day without much effort. That one sounds like him. And if that was his goal, well: huge fucking success. Congratulations Zach, you’ve still got it.

“Bud,” Scratch says.

“Don’t ‘bud’ me, I’m fucking mad at you,” Joey says, then, “No, don’t hug me, I’m pissed.”

Scratch stops like, one inch from hugging, so it’s more of a weird looming over Joey gesture, and his big hurt eyes say ‘give me a hug’ and also, annoyingly, ‘I know you want this hug’. 

Joey sighs and leans into him. “I’m mad at you,” he mutters into Scratch’s shoulder, in case Scratch gets confused and thinks the hug means otherwise.

“Sorry,” Scratch says. “I just — fuck that guy, Joey.”

“I know,” Joey mumbles.

“He’s the fucking worst,” Scratch says.

“He is,” Joey agrees.

“You weren’t going to like, agree to meet up, were you?” Scratch says after a second, shoulder going tense under his cheek. The hug isn’t a hug anymore, Joey feels like, more cuddling, and they’re huggers, and play-fighters, and personal space-ignorers, but not cuddlers. The last time this happened — the last time was when those pictures got leaked, and Joey spent a not insubstantial amount of time trying not to literally cry on Scratch’s shoulder.

“No fucking way,” Joey says, and Scratch’s shoulder relaxes. “I was just going to block him. Or ignore it. Or not _threaten to beat him up_.”

“You didn’t threaten him, I did,” Scratch says.

“That’s not what he’s going to think,” Joey says.

“So, who gives a fuck what that asshole thinks?” Scratch asks.

Joey, apparently, even now. Thankfully not in a ‘I want him to like me’ way, not anymore, but Joey doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can affect Joey, even if it’s true. Especially because it’s true. 

“Can you block him for me?” Joey asks. It’s stupid and cowardly, but he doesn’t want to see if Zach’s said anything in response, if he’s even read it, he just wants it — him — gone. Though he knows it’s going to follow him to California, bug him for weeks, if not longer.

Scratch is right. Fuck that guy.

“Yeah, of course,” Scratch says, and Joey hands his phone over. 

“Fingerprint,” Scratch says, and Joey obediently holds up his index finger so Scratch can unlock his phone.

“Blocked him,” Scratch says.

“Did he say anything?” Joey asks.

“No,” Scratch says, and Joey doesn’t know if he feels relieved or disappointed. Both, he guesses.

“You okay?” Scratch asks.

“I don’t know,” Joey says.

Scratch doesn’t say anything.

“No,” Joey admits, and curls closer when Scratch squeezes his arm tighter around him, stays there until he’s got a call from the lobby, uncurls to buzz the delivery in.

“What do you wanna watch?” Scratch asks when Joey returns with their food.

“You wanted to watch Dirty Money,” Joey says.

“Yeah, but you’re depressed enough right now without adding a shitton of corruption to everything,” Scratch says, and Joey manages a weak smile. “Parks and Rec?” he asks, already reaching for the remote, because he knows Joey’s going to say yes. They settle to eat, side by side but not touching, back to normal, at least for them, and that’s as comforting as comfort TV.

“Here for you, Joey,” Scratch says quietly, and Joey doesn’t have to tell him he knows.


End file.
